


Glaring With Delight

by kennagirl



Category: Glee
Genre: Adoption, M/M, Minor Character Death, Teen Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-08
Updated: 2012-06-08
Packaged: 2017-11-07 08:01:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/428746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kennagirl/pseuds/kennagirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Puck always hoped his sister wouldn't have half the problems in her life that he did. Sure, they were both raised by the same single mom, but Puck was forever willing to help with homework and play games and make crafts and do whatever it took. So the day Kurt picked up the phone and was met with a tearful teenager in a tough spot, it didn't take much for them to board a plane and leave their smooth-sailing New York life for Lima. Puck wasn't about to let his little sister make the same mistake he did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. When You've Just Hit the Wall

**Author's Note:**

> Titles taken from ["Catch You"](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HJ4-DvF8-R0) by Otto Peyer.

  


 

Kurt was exactly where Puck had left him that morning when he went to work, curled on his side in their bed.  He knew that his boyfriend hadn’t been feeling well when he woke up, but for him to not even get out of bed was a very bad sign.  Puck pushed the door open a little more, hoping that Kurt wouldn’t stir if he really needed the sleep.  That’s when his eyes shifted from the dark hair barely visible above the comforter to the carefully folded pants and shirt on the desk chair, a sweater draped across the back.  Kurt only left clothes out like that if he’d been wearing them and was going to wear them again that day, which meant he just got comfortable for a nap.

Puck pushed the door open enough to slip through, thumbing the button of his jeans as he went.  He stripped off his shirt, slid his pants down his legs and left them crumpled on the floor in a heap before climbing into bed, sliding an arm around Kurt’s waist and pulling him to his chest.  “How are you?” he asked into the base of Kurt’s neck, lips tickling the short hairs there.  “Feeling better?”

The blanket-warmed body turned around in his arms, facing him and sliding down a little bit to press a quick kiss to his chest.  “You left your phone here,” Kurt murmured, quiet against the skin.

“I’m sorry?”  Puck wasn’t sure why something as simple as forgetting his phone could cause this kind of response from Kurt.  “Did you try to get ahold of me for something?”  He shook his head no.  “Did someone call?”

“Your sister.”

A fond smile crossed Puck’s face.  “She talk your ear off?”  Head shake.  A horrible thought crossed his mind.  “Is someone dead?”  Shake, thankfully.  “Did something happen?”  Finally, a nod.  “Is it Ma?”  Another head shake.  “Is Sarah in trouble?”  A deep breath, and a single nod.  “Dammit, Kurt, just tell me what’s going on.”

“Sarah’s pregnant.  She’s keeping the baby.”

For a split second, he’s sixteen years old again and watching a frustrated Finn walk away, the words ringing in his ears.  The bottom falls out of his stomach and he knows he needs to fix this, he just doesn’t know how.

He comes back and Kurt’s still talking, his voice shaking a little.  “She called your phone, so I figured I’d answer and catch up with her.  But she was just crying, and I couldn’t get her to tell me what was wrong, but she just kept crying, and I didn’t know what to do.  I always knew how to handle Mercedes and Tina and Quinn and every single one of Rachel’s mental breakdowns, even now, but I’ve never seen Sarah be anything other than happy and sarcastic and funny and just herself.  And she didn’t want to tell me, she wanted me to put you on the phone, but I had to tell her you weren’t here, but that she could tell me anything.”  He sniffed wetly.  “She said she could only talk to her big brother and that she really fucked up.  ‘I fucked up, I need Noah, I really fucked up, I need by brother.’  Over and over.”

He squeezed tighter, thankful that Kurt at least had been there for her.  “How did you get her to talk?”

“I reminded her that I might not be her big brother, but I was a big brother, so I had the rulebook.”  He chuckled weakly.  “If I could handle Finn’s frantic phone calls at three in the morning about whether he was screwing things up with Rachel after their latest fight, I could help her.  I got her to breathe, and she calmed down and stopped talking for a little bit.  When I asked her what was wrong, she said, ‘Tell Noah to call me back because he’s going to be an uncle.’  She started crying again and hung up.”

Sighing, Puck nuzzled his face in his boyfriend’s hair.  “God, how did this happen?”

“I don’t know,” Kurt admitted.  “She sounded so scared.”

“Wait till she gets over that,” Puck said.  “She always said she was gonna one-up me and not be a teenage parent.  She’s gonna be pissed when she realizes that she’s in the same boat.”

A soft giggle erupted from Kurt’s mouth.  “She still lasted a year longer than you.”

“Shut up.”

Kurt continued giggling slightly as Puck pouted.  His lower lip stuck out as far as he could get it, until Kurt leaned up and kissed it lightly, sighing.  “Why are we joking about this?  This isn’t supposed to be funny.”

“Because sometimes it’s all you can do,” Puck said quietly.  “First time I talked to Quinn about Beth, back when she was still Finn’s baby, I made some crack about immaculate conception and the Vatican.  Even the whole Jackie Daniels thing was me trying to get her to loosen up.  Sometimes you have to pretend it’s a joke to make it not suck so much.”

They lay there, curled together for a while longer simply breathing each other’s air.  As soon as they moved the world around them would continue, but for the moment, wrapped together in their bed, it was just them.  At least, that’s what they convinced themselves.

Puck pulled away first, reluctantly, reaching over Kurt for the phone on the night stand.  “I need to call Sarah.  Then probably Ma after that, and maybe Carole because she already hates doctors and someone needs to make sure she’s healthy.  I’m not letting Sarah put herself or this kid in jeopardy, not if she actually wants it.”  He rolled back, phone clutched in his hand and eyes fixed on the ceiling.  “Shit, what if she decides to get rid of it anyway?  That’s a whole different set of calls and doctors and--”  He was cut off by Kurt’s hand covering his mouth.  He looked at his boyfriend who was staring with wide eyes.

“Puck,” he started out slowly.  “I know you want to help her.  That’s great, and there’s nothing wrong with that.  But you don’t have to do it alone either.  I’m here for both of you, every step of the way, okay?”  Puck nodded and Kurt removed his hand, leaning over to kiss him soundly.

“How did I get so lucky with you?” Puck murmured as they broke apart.

“I got fed up with you stalking me,” Kurt whispered back, then pressed one last kiss to his boyfriend’s lips before rolling out of bed to put his clothes back on.  Puck barked out a short laugh at their old joke while watching him dress.

They had both known they were in the group of McKinley students that moved to New York, but they hadn’t thought anything of it.  That is, until Puck thought he heard a familiar high voice coming out of the Starbucks down the street from his apartment.  And then Kurt caught sight of a mohawk walking past his favorite Thai cafe.  A few more similar incidents passed before they literally ran into each other with shopping carts at the little grocery spot on the corner.  They finished shopping together, checked out, and walked down the street together to the same crappy apartment building where Puck lived one floor above Kurt.  This resulted in promises to hang out that neither of them intended to keep until Kurt needed a date to a school function to make some guy jealous.  The fake date turned into a real one about halfway through, with neither boy noticing up to the point of them making out against Kurt’s front door.

Kurt tossed Puck’s jeans at his head, telling him it would probably be better to be dressed for this phone call.  He sobered, then threw the covers back, tugging his pants on at the side of the bed.  Another moment to pull himself together, and he stood, grabbing his shirt and putting it on.  He picked up his phone from where he’d set it on the pillow and stared at it.  Kurt came up behind him and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend’s toned chest.  “Let’s sit at the table.”  Puck nodded and let himself be pulled over to their minuscule kitchen and sat in one of the folding chairs.  He grabbed Kurt’s hand and squeezed, then found the speed dial for Sarah’s cell.  Puck pressed the button firmly, turned on the speaker, and set it on the table.

The phone rang three times, echoing slightly down the line.  The sound cut off and the faint strains of music were heard.  “Noah?” asked a tired voice.

Puck smiled despite himself at the sound of his little sister saying his name.  “Hey, Sarah-bear.”

Sarah laughed shortly, then her breath hitched and little sobs starting pouring down the phone.  “I’m sorry.  God, I’m so sorry Noah.  I fucked up, I didn’t mean—”

“Hey, hey, no listen,” Puck said, firm but gentle.  “It’s okay, it’ll all be okay.”

“Don’t lie to me,” she snapped.  “I’m fucking pregnant, okay?  This changes everything.”

“Yeah, it does,” he admitted, “but I promise it’ll be okay.”

“You can’t know that.”

“Sure I can,” he smirked, though his eyes were watery.  “I’m your big brother and I’m always right.”

“So full of yourself,” she muttered.  There was a moment of silence, then soft hitching breaths.  “Noah?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you just— just stay on the phone with me while I cry?  Just ‘til I can pull it together a little bit?”

Puck squeezed Kurt’s hand harder.  “Not going anywhere.”

At his promise, Sarah starting crying again.  Puck felt helpless; all he wanted in that moment was to hold his baby sister while what sounded like the Demi Lovato’s greatest hits CD he bought her as a gag gift for her last birthday played in the background.  She’d been a fan of all those Disney artists because she was their target audience, and played their songs way too much, so Puck couldn’t pass up the joke.  Hearing Skyscraper was always supposed to be a little hopeful, even he had to admit it, but at the moment it seemed like some kind of cruel irony.

He panicked a moment when Kurt tried to pull his hand away, but the other man just gestured to the small coffeemaker on the counter.  Puck nodded gratefully, though he still let go reluctantly.  Kurt pressed a kiss to the side of his head, then fished the coffee grounds out of the cabinet and set about making a pot.  Once he started it brewing, Kurt sat back down, gripping Puck’s hand tight and kissing the knuckles.  By the time it was gently dripping into the full pot, Sarah’s sobs had quieted and her breathing was more even with the occasional hitch.

“God, I hate crying,” she muttered, then came a very loud sound of a nose being blown, followed by a faint “Ew.”  More rustling and the sound of a cabinet closing, accompanied by a metallic clatter.  Finally they heard the sound of a door closing.  “Okay,” Sarah said, trying and failing to sound like her usual chipper self.  “What’s first, Mr. Fix-It?”

Puck snorted.  “You got your spoon and Nutella?”

“Brand new jar,” she mumbled, no doubt around the food in her mouth.

“Good.”  He took a sip of the coffee Kurt had poured during her hunt for comfort food.  “Have you taken the test, or are you just late?”

“I wouldn’t worry you unless there was reason to worry.”  He could practically hear her rolling her eyes.  “All three tests came up positive.”

Puck felt that last little hope that this would be a false alarm fly away.  “What do you want to do?”

“I’m keeping it,” she said immediately.  “Like, for real keeping it.”

Puck’s breath caught a moment.  “You sure?”

“Yes,” she said firmly.  “I saw what giving up Beth did to you and I can’t go through that.  I know I’m probably crazy and this’ll cost me money and my reputation and all that jazz, and that I’m so not ready to be a mom.  But I don’t have a choice anymore.  I can’t spend my life not knowing this kid.”

He was stunned, but understanding at the strength of her outburst.  “Okay.  Now there’s a couple people you have to tell.”

“Well I already covered you and Kurt.”

“You scared the crap out of him, by the way.”

“Tell him I’m sorry.”

“You’re on speaker, tell him yourself.”

“Sorry, Kurt.”

Kurt smiled fondly.  “Forgiven.”

“Good.”  She paused, probably to steel herself.  “Who do I have to tell?”

“Ma for starters.”

She sighed.  “I was afraid you’d say that.  Sure we can’t just convince her I’m getting fat?”

“Different weight distribution,”  Kurt reminded her.

“Damn.  Who else?”

“You’ll need a doctor, but I know you hate them, so you should probably tell Carole so she can set you up,” Puck explained.  “At the very least, she’ll be able to point you in the right direction.”

“Forgot about doctors.”  He heard the shudder, followed by the faint noise of eating.  “Anyone else?”

“The father.”

“No.”

Puck frowned.  “Sarah, it’s his kid too.”

“No it’s not.”

“If he’s the father, it is his kid.  That’s kinda the definition.”  A horrible thought struck him.  “Sarah,” he said, voice low and warning, “are you trying to pull the same shit Quinn did?”

“No!”  She sounded offended.  “Hell no!  I would never pull a bitch move like that!  How the fuck could you think I would ever do that?”

“Well I had to check,” Puck bit back.  Even years later and with everything that had happened, that lie still stung more than a bit.

“No, you didn’t,” Sarah retorted, “because I remember.  I may not have known what was going on, but I remember you being pissed off all the time between when you joined New Directions and when Quinn came to live with us.  I’m not going to lie because I think he’d be a bad dad or I have a better option or whatever bullshit she shoveled, but as far as I’m concerned, he doesn’t have any right!”

“Why not?”  Puck yelled.

“Because—”

Silence.

A long silence.

“Sarah?” Kurt asked gently.  “Are you still there?”

“Yeah.”  She sounded tired, defeated.

“Why doesn’t he have any right?”

She took a deep breath.  “Because we were drunk and I tried to say no.”

Puck couldn’t hear anything over the roaring in his ears.  He hadn’t been this angry since Kurt broke his ankle three months into their relationship and the ER nurse wouldn’t let him back because he wasn’t an emergency contact and had no legal standing.  He felt like killing someone then, too.  His hands shook, so he held onto the coffee to steady them.  He thought about trying to take a sip, but the chances of spilling all over his shirt were too high.  Instead, he held tight, so tight he thought the mug might crack.

“—and I said I didn’t feel like it, but he kinda had a one-track mind and I didn’t feel like fighting either, so I just stopped talking and let him do whatever because he had a condom in his wallet so I figured it was cool, but I guess he hadn’t gotten laid in so long that it wore a hole or something.  I got off then he got off, and I thought this would all just be a drunken memory.  It sucks that it’s not, but I’ll be damned if that asshole gets his hands on my baby.”

“I’m gonna kill him, you know.”  Puck said conversationally.  “Snap his neck with my bare hands.  Skin him so no one recognizes him.  Set him on fire.  Drop him in a lake for a few weeks.  Then drop him bit by bit down the storm drains.  They’ll never find the body.  Because there won’t be one.”  He glanced at Kurt who was staring, wide-eyed.  “What?”

“I’m just not used to the death threats being so calm,” he admitted.  “Usually you’d be growling and pounding your fist into your hand right about now.”

Puck grinned.  “Saving it up for when I actually see the guy.”

Sarah laughed, long and loud on the phone.  “Oh, I needed that.  Thanks, Noah.”  She chuckled a few more times.

“I don’t see what’s so funny.  I’m dead serious.”

“I know.  But he graduated last year and his family is moving to California in a few weeks.  He’s not coming back.”

“What?”  Puck was growling now.  “This punk doesn’t even go to school with you?”

“ _Anymore_.  Doesn’t go to school with me _anymore_.  Besides, it’s not like I was a virgin or anything.”

If Puck had been drinking the last of his coffee like he almost did, he would have spit it out on the table.  “What?  No.  No-no-no, you are only seventeen.  You’re not allowed to have sex until you’re forty.”

Kurt snorted next to him and Sarah squawked, “You fucking hypocrite!  At least I held off ‘til sixteen.  At least I did it with someone I liked and trusted.  How about you?”

Puck thought about Santana, about awkward fumblings that finally crossed that line the night of his fifteenth birthday, about years of honing those skills using each other and half the school.  He only liked her half the time, more now that he didn’t see her day-to-day anymore, and he’d never trusted her.

“Shut up.”

“No way you can delude yourself now with a niece or nephew in nine months.”

He sighed deeply.  “I know.  Still.  When you’re seventy years old and have twenty grandkids, I’m gonna see you as the two year old who peed in my shoes then finger-painted a picture for me to make up for it.”

“ _Nooooo-aaaah_ ,” she whined.  “C’mon.  I’ve spent six years trying to convince Kurt that I’m the cool Puckerman and you keep messing it up.”

“Please, I’m the cool one.”

“You forget, Puck,” Kurt interrupted.  “I’ve seen you in a dress.  And I’ve done your make-up.  Trust me, Sarah’s the cool one.”

“That doesn’t count, it was glee stuff.”

“I’ve got pictures from last year.”

“That was for a bet!”

“Sarah, you’ll always be the cool one.”

“Yes!  You know you need to send me those—”  Sarah broke off the conversation.  “Oh, shit.  Ma’s home.”  Her voice was slightly panicked.  “Are you sure I have to tell her?”  


“You probably should,” Kurt said gently.  “Just get it over with.”

“Okay.”  The panic was evident now.  “Okay.  So, when this all blows up in my face I can run to New York to live with you two and say ‘I told you so,’ right?”

“If you really have to, of course we’ll take you.  But I think you should give your mom a little more credit.  It’ll be a shock, but she loves you.  Worst comes to worst, go to Dad and Carole.”  He smiled slightly at the phone.  “It’s been a while since she’s had a pregnant teenager need somewhere to stay, but she won’t turn you away.”

Sarah laughed quietly.  “Thanks guys.  For everything.”  Puck reached out and grabbed Kurt’s hand at the sound of the obvious tears in her voice.  “Love you.”

Puck squeezed Kurt’s hand so tight he distantly feared it might break.  “Love you too, Sarah-bear.  Bye.”

“Bye,” she whispered.  Then nothing but dead air.

They sat there for a few minutes, Puck crushing Kurt’s hand in his.  He would have worried and let up, but Kurt was using his own vise-like grip, the one usually reserved for impressing or intimidating.  Back in high school, it meant a combination of both; now it was a reassurance they were both there.

“Would Ruth actually kick her out?” Kurt asked quietly.

“It’d be pretty shitty of her to do it.  Welcome her son’s baby mama with open arms but get rid of her only daughter?  She’s not that much of a hypocrite.”  He sighed, slumping back in his chair.  Kurt’s thumb started drawing small circles on the back of his hand.  His grip relaxed, even as his head started pounding.  “That doesn’t mean she won’t need a place to run away to when shit gets hard.  Quinn liked her slumber parties and I crashed on San’s floor a few times.”

Kurt slid his chair closer.  He set his head on Puck’s shoulder, their hands linked on his lap.  “She always has a place at the Hudmels.  Carole loves her and those overnights have wrapped Dad around her finger.”

Puck snorted and tipped his head over onto Kurt’s.  They tended to sleep in Kurt’s old room when they visited Lima, simply because his bed had room for two people unlike Puck’s worn-out extra-long twin.  Sarah didn’t like this.  She liked spending as much time with them as possible.  This involved inviting herself over for dinner and movie nights and just falling asleep on the couch.  The first time, Burt thought it was adorable, though he’d never use that word.  He was the one to fish the multicolored afghan out of the hall closet and drape it over her.  Come breakfast time, they were laughing together over oatmeal and cups of decaf coffee, a tradition that continued every time she stayed the night.  It was a mix of friendship and father-daughter that amused and confused everyone but the two of them.

“Everything’s gonna change for her,” Puck murmured.  “I don’t doubt she’ll be a great mom, but it’ll be hard.  She said so herself, she’s not ready.  I just wish she could be a kid a little while longer, you know?”  He brought their joined hands up to his lips and kissed Kurt’s knuckles softly.  “God has some shitty timing with giving babies to Puckermans.  Granted, I don’t think my dad could ever seriously handle having a kid, so with that there was no good timing.”

The bitterness seeping through those words was obvious.  Kurt knew all about his issues with his so-called father and hated to hear Puck hurting like that.  “Good thing Ruth is a Bernbaum, huh?  She raised you two well.”

“Yeah, a couple of teenage parents.”  He stood up roughly, Kurt’s attempts at diffusing the tension flowing through his body failing.  “I mean, fuck, everyone’s gonna look down on her now.  It sucks.  It doesn’t matter what you accomplish later or how happy you are.  You have a kid in high school and those fucking judging eyes are on your back for life.  Even when they don’t look anymore, you still feel them.  Hell, if I were the one having a kid right now with you, everybody would be throwing a damn party!  Asking when it’s due, surrogate or adoption, where are we registered for cribs and shit, all those things that they’re nosy enough to ask and we’ll tell them anyway because we’d be too fucking ecstatic to keep it to ourselves.  And it’s some kind of cosmic joke that everyone would expect us to be happy about having to jump through hoops but think less of her for having it just happen!”

He stood on the other side of the apartment, eyes locked on Kurt and breathing heavily.  The smaller man stood slowly and approached his boyfriend, palms out in a show of calm.  He ran a hand over the mohawk toward the back, slowly grounding him, then dragged it forward and pressed it against Puck’s cheek.

“You have issues.”

The tension broke.  It was still there, but not threatening to consume him anymore.  Anyone else, and the statement would have caused him to snap completely, but Kurt had such affection behind the tease that Puck couldn’t help letting out a startled chuckle.  “No shit, Sherlock.  But you love me anyway, right?”

“No shit, Sherlock,” Kurt mocked.  He wrapped his arms around Puck, folding them together.  They stood there a while, listening to each other breathe, until Kurt said Puck’s name.

“Huh?”

“Did you mean what you said?  About us and kids?”  Puck frowned and opened his mouth, but Kurt beat him to it.  “Not about having them.  We’ve talked about that.  But it’s always been a future thing.  Do you think—  Are we ready to have kids?”

Puck thought for a moment, everything from their finances to their emotional stability as a couple.  “I think so.”

Kurt squeezed tighter.  “I think so too.”  He took a deep breath.  “What if— what if we adopted Sarah’s baby?”

 

  


 

They talked.  Hours of discussion into the night and countless cups of coffee.  Will either of them have to quit to stay at home and who would it be?  Do they even have time right now?  Where would they live?  How would they handle the pregnancy?  All of this between “Oh my god, we’re actually insane aren’t we?”s and “Of course, we have to ask Sarah first”s.

By the time the sun rose, they had things figured out.  As well as could be done, anyway.  They would sublet their tiny studio for a year and move back to Lima to help Sarah through the pregnancy and keep the baby there until she graduated.  Plenty of family friends would be willing to give them decent jobs to build up more income while they lived in a larger but much cheaper place.  Then they would return to New York and get a two bedroom place with a spot for Sarah if she chose to come with them.  Kurt would start auditioning again and Puck would stay home and continue his songwriting for the publisher that had been paying him advances and royalties for five years.

“We should probably book a flight for a month from now,” Kurt said, pouring himself one last cup of coffee.  “That way my show is wrapped and we have a little extra time to finish packing before this place goes on the market.”  He sipped and grimaced at the lack of heat.  The warmer had been turned off a few hours ago to prevent them from evaporating the pot and having to scrub it.  “Assuming Sarah says yes.”

They both looked at the phone where it had been sitting in the middle of the table all night.  After a quick mental calculation, Puck realized Sarah would be getting up in half an hour.  If she even slept at all.  He picked it up and thumbed her number on the speed dial.

Sarah was tired, having just been woken up, but she was much calmer.  Apparently Ruth took the news almost exactly like she had with Puck:  a hug, a promise that she loved her kid and they would talk in the morning, downing two glasses of whiskey, and going to bed early.  Granted, she only drank one glass when Puck brought Quinn home, but he figured knowing she had to go through it all a second time was worth an extra glass.

When Puck proposed their idea, she clammed up.  There was a long, tense moment, and just as Puck was about to tell her to forget about it, she said, “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah.  I think that’s a great idea.”

“You do?”  He looked over at Kurt, excitement plain on both their faces.  “I mean, you can have time to think about it if you—”

“Noah,” she cut him off.  “This is what’s best for everyone.  I can just feel it.  You two will be great dads and this baby deserves a real chance at a good life.”  She sighed.  “I can’t really give that.”

“Sarah—”

“No, it’s true.  Fun and awesome aunt I can do.  Mom would be more than I can handle.  I just— I need to be in her life.  I can’t give him up to strangers.  And while you’re a little strange, you’re definitely not a stranger.”

Puck chuckled, then her words registered.  “Wait.  _Her_ life and give _him_ up?”  He shot Kurt a confused look.  “Is there something I’m missing here?”

“I’m switching pronouns back and forth until I know for sure.”  He snorted, because it was such a Sarah thing to do.  “Okay, I need to get ready for school.  Pregnancy is no excuse to slack on grades.  Hey, put Kurt on speaker.”

“Why?”

“Because I said so.”

He rolled his eyes and put the loudspeaker on in the middle of the table.  As Kurt came over, he said, “Go, Sarah.”

“I need to know what kind of outfit says ‘I’m having a baby and my brother and his boyfriend are adopting it.’”  Puck looked over at Kurt and saw his shock mirrored on his boyfriend’s face.  “Might as well tell the glee club what’s up so they can decide if they’re going to dump me for it or not.  Somehow I think Schue will be grateful that this is a simple teen pregnancy and not one filled with lies and cheating like last time.”

“You should start with Puck being the father,” Kurt interjected, “and see how many colors his face turns.”

“Sure, throw me under the bus,” he grumbled.  Puck stood and looked at their apartment as Kurt and Sarah discussed the contents of her closet.  He was pretty sure he could pack up the majority of their things and get them shipped to Lima while Kurt wrapped his chorus role in a 1920s mobster version of Oedipus Rex.  If they could get Burt or maybe even Schue to help store boxes until they got there and got their own place—

He realized just how many people they’d have to tell.  Sure, he had listed off the big ones to Sarah the night before, but they would need all the help they could get.

Kurt wrapped up the phone call and looked over at Puck.  “What?”

“We probably need to let your parents know.  Finn and Rachel, too, so they’re not trying drop by when we’re not here.”  Puck scrubbed a hand over his face.  “Hell, we should probably tell all of New Directions so they can throw us that baby shower we were talking about.”

“I bet they all thought Finchel would be having a baby before Puckurt.”

Puck couldn’t help but smile at the use of the old couple names.  “Yeah, but at least Tike went first.  Now we don’t have to worry about Rachel being mad at us for stealing that spotlight.”

Kurt looked like he wanted to protest, but then he smiled and admitted, “I would say she’d never be that ridiculous, but she’s Rachel Berry, so there’s no telling.  Either way, she’ll be happy for us.  Besides, if you want to get technical, you and Quinn had the first glee club baby.”

Puck smiled, thinking of the little girl he gave up years ago.  “Yeah, but we actually get to keep this one.”  He stood for a few more minutes, remembering his last Skype call with Beth and how excited she had been about her school project.  Kurt’s hand on his arm took him out of the moment.

“You did what was best for Beth.  You know that, right?”

“I know,” Puck admitted.  “Doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt like hell to do it, though.  There hasn’t been a single day where I haven’t thought about her since I found out Quinn was pregnant.”  Kurt hugged him tightly, and Puck felt his arms go up around him automatically.  “I almost didn’t let her go, but then Shelby came up and asked what her name was, and I could just tell that she wanted her.  And the fact that she wanted to know what we— what I would have called her was as good of a sign as I was gonna get that she’d take care of my little girl when I knew I couldn’t.  So I let her go.”

“We didn’t talk much then, but I could see how it was killing you.  Not always, but every so often there would be a moment.”  Kurt smiled weakly.  “I remember Brittany saying something about baby ducks once, and your face lit up, but then you were angry the rest of the day.”  Puck knew those moments.  Something would remind him of his little girl, but then he’d remember that she wasn’t his anymore.  “Now though, when we talk about her, it’s always her latest recital or what she set on fire this week.”

“Hey now, she’s trying to learn how to cook.”

“I’d believe that more if she wasn’t your daughter and you didn’t have a semi-unhealthy fascination with burning things,” Kurt snarked back.

“Quinn’s the one that lit the piano on fire in the courtyard, that’s all her genes.”

“And the carefully sliced grapes in our microwave?”

Puck remained silent.

“That’s what I thought.”  They slotted their heads onto shoulders, a position they’d held often before.  “I just… wanted to make sure that adopting Sarah’s baby was centered in the here and now, and not from some misplaced regret with Beth.”

“I might wish things had been different, but there’s no regret.  It worked out the way it was supposed to.”  Puck pulled away, pressing a light kiss to Kurt’s forehead.  “Now do you want Rachel to talk your ear off, or are you ready to tell Burt he’s going to be a grandpa?”

“I’ll take my dad, you handle Miss Berry.  And please try to keep her from coming over here.  I don’t feel like having her run up our cell bill when Finn calls to ask where his wife is and she takes the phone away.”


	2. You're Going Insane

When they were eighteen, leaving Lima seemed impossible.  Returning at twenty-five, even for a short time, was almost laughably easy.  Burt found them a few listings for apartments that had twice the space of their place in New York for a quarter of the price.  The one they picked was relatively central to their most important places: the Hudmel house, the Puckerman place, and the hospital where Sarah planned to deliver.  The paperwork had been faxed back and forth multiple times, but everything was signed and a key awaited their arrival.

Aside from family, the person they talked with the most in Lima before they moved there was a lawyer.  Gina Box was someone Burt had met in his campaign days.  In her mid-thirties, she had a no-nonsense attitude when it came down to business and a soft spot for unconventional families.  She handled the majority of the foster care and adoption cases that came up in the Lima area, much like her father had before her.

“He actually handled a case quite a while back, about a young gay couple and their surrogate,” she informed them during one of their increasingly drawn out calls.  Luckily she liked them and wasn’t about to charge them for when she started telling stories.  “Pretty messy then, what with all the laws in place to prevent their situation.  Sixteen years later, that surrogate comes in and says she’s recently adopted a child and she doesn’t trust anyone else to draw up the contract between her and the parents.”  Kurt’s breath caught and he looked over at Puck, who was trying very hard to not laugh.  “I was just getting started there and Dad would hand the practice over to me two years later.  But I’ll never forget the day that young father came in here.  He had a mohawk and this smirk, I’ll admit it made me a little weak in the knees.  But then he opened his mouth and said—”

“You know sweetheart, I may not be Fred Flinstone, but I can make your bed rock.”

Puck’s line was met with silence from the other two parties.

“So, I might still have the mohawk, but I know your dad got me a good set-up with Beth.  Pretty sure I can trust you to do the same thing with us this time around.”

Kurt stuffed a fist into his mouth to stifle his laughter until Gina started giggling down the line.  “I’ll do my best.  There’s just a couple of things you should be careful with to get around a few ridiculous Ohio laws…”

By the time Kurt and Puck pulled their car, rarely used in New York and loaded with a few suitcases, into the parking lot of a Lima apartment complex, they were as ready as they could be.

The time flew by quickly.  Within three weeks of their arrival, they were holding Sarah’s hands as they all found out they were having a girl.  Gifts started arriving and advice was given freely.  Puck listened well to Carole and Burt, picking up tips and tricks that he hadn’t gotten from years of half-raising Sarah alongside his own mother.  Quinn called once to simply say she was happy for them.  He and Mike ended up talking for a few hours one Saturday until he heard a crash and Mike abruptly took his leave, claiming two-year-old Darcy had gotten into the medicine cabinet again.  Rachel wanted to bestow upon them all the knowledge she had acquired through research, but Puck cut her off, saying he loved her dearly but he’d rather have advice on how to be a parent from a parent.  When she was still upset, he promised her that she could be the one to help their daughter navigate the perils of having two gay dads.  She seemed satisfied with that and he was just thankful that someone else was willing to give his daughter the sex talk.  He hung up, promising that he had the Berry’s home number if he had any questions.

Christmas and New Year’s passed with little incident, as did the majority of Sarah’s second trimester.  Kurt picked up a job doing office work for Dr. Jones as his receptionist retired and Kurt came with excellent references (Mercedes called from California to put in a good word).  Puck in the meantime had finished two more songs and sent them to his publisher while working part-time as a sub at McKinley.  Sarah, refusing to simply be taken care of, had looked around for her own job that she could still do while pregnant.  When Burt offered her a position filing paperwork for the garage, she had told him that she didn’t really want him making up a job just to give her money.  By the end of the first day, she had changed her tune.  Apparently Burt wasn’t kidding about needing someone around to help figure out where certain papers had disappeared to.

“2007!” Sarah said as she walked in the door of the apartment, Kurt trailing closely behind.  Puck looked up from his seat on the couch, wondering what it was that Sarah had found in Burt’s so-called files.  “There was a receipt from 2007 for three hundred dollars worth of oil.  And where was it?  Under a plant!”  She hung her coat, still necessary in mid-February, in the closet next to the door and flopped onto the sofa as well as she could with her belly.  “If I hadn’t knocked that thing over, I wouldn’t have found it.  Not that it was necessary, but still.  It’s been under there for twelve years!”

“I tried to warn you,” Kurt called from the kitchen.  He usually picked up Sarah from the garage when he got off work, and she stayed with them until Ruth was home, or sometimes all night.  Nobody wanted to take chances with the baby.  “I’m pretty sure Mom was the one that did all the organizing in the shop and the house.  When she wasn’t around anymore, I took care of the house, because I was an odd child who liked cleaning,” Puck snorted, “and the garage was all him.  And now,” Kurt came into the living area and sat on the back of the couch, patting Sarah’s head, “it’s all you.”

“It fucking sucks,” she stated bluntly.  “Uncle Burt has no sense of organization.  At all.  And this is coming from me.  I put everything in three categories: shit I need, shit I might need, and shit I don’t need.  His filing has one category: shit.  Speaking of,” she pushed herself up off the couch, Puck’s hand unseen but ready to catch her from behind, “I’ll be right back.”

As she shut the bathroom door, Puck called out, “That’s gross, Sarah,” receiving a “Bite me,” in response.  Kurt slid onto the couch and rested his head on Puck’s shoulder.

“Dad and I were talking this afternoon.”

“About?”

“Marriage.”  Puck sighed, knowing that it was bound to come up eventually.  “He was wondering why we hadn’t made it official yet.  Went on and on about how we were practically married already, and how the only thing left was a certificate and a ceremony, and didn’t I always want to get married to the man of my dreams when I was younger?”

“He called me the man of your dreams?”

“Yeah.”  Kurt smirked.  “Although I bet if he knew what kind of dreams I had about you most often, he wouldn’t have used that phrasing.”

“Dirty little perv,” Puck muttered, throwing an arm around Kurt’s shoulder.

“You love it.”

“I love you.”

“Love you, too.”  Kurt tipped his head up for a kiss, making it very clear that he wanted more, but with Sarah a few yards away, they knew it wasn’t going to happen.  They both pulled back, breathing a little heavier than usual, and settled into their positions again.  “Anyway, he wanted to know why we weren’t getting married before the baby is born.”

“It’s not like it’s a shotgun wedding or anything.”

“He knows that, but he was under the impression that it would be easier for a married couple to adopt than a single parent.  In a heterosexual relationship, that’s true, but for us—”

“For us, it’s easier for me to adopt in Ohio, then marriage and step-parent adoption later in New York.”

“Exactly.”  Kurt sighed and snuggled in closer.  “Why is it even now, things have to be harder just because we’re two men in love instead of a man and a woman?”

“Because the world sucks?” Puck offered.  “At least we have Gina on our side.  You have to admit, her creative legal manipulation is brilliant.”

Sarah’s voice, muffled by the bathroom door, floated into the room.  “Hey guys?”

“We’d be pretty lost without her,” Kurt admitted, standing.  He walked over to the bathroom door.  “Sarah, you okay?”

“I don’t know.”

Kurt sent a panicked look in Puck’s direction, who quickly strode over and cranked open the door.  Sarah was still sitting on the toilet, but that wasn’t what was drawing his attention.

Her underwear sat on the floor in front of her, unmistakeable blood stains marring the fabric.

She looked up at them, tears running down her face.  “I don’t know what’s wrong.”

Puck went over to the dresser in the spare bedroom where Sarah kept spare clothes.  He grabbed a clean pair of panties and some maternity yoga pants.  In the bathroom, Kurt was holding her hand, looking like he was about to cry as well.  Puck dressed his sister carefully, hauling her into a standing position to pull the pants the rest of the way up, then moved her out the door and to the car.  Kurt followed, grabbing wallets and keys and phones as he went.

The drive to the hospital was short but tense.  Kurt and Sarah were both crying, and Puck focused on the road to keep himself from joining them.  Their arrival at the ER was smooth.  As soon as he mentioned “pregnant woman bleeding” to the desk nurse, all three were whisked back and questions and answers began flying.

She was about 26 weeks.  Yes, she was a minor, but only for the next two months.  No, there was no pain or cramps.  No, this hadn’t happened before.  Yes, Puck and Kurt were family.  Yes, she wanted them to follow.

Blood pressure readings were recorded and Sarah was put in a private cubicle.  Kurt disappeared to hopefully find a just-clocked-out Carole and get a familiar face watching over them so Sarah’s mild doctor phobia was kept at bay.  Scans were ordered, tests were run, and the staff tried to locate Dr. Jameson, Sarah’s OB-GYN.  Burt showed up as soon as he closed the shop, thanks to a call from Carole, and he raised a fuss in the waiting room until they let him back.  Ruth was still on shift and would be all night, so she couldn’t get away.

It was a few hours before they received a diagnosis of placenta praevia.  As Puck understood it, the placenta was between the baby and the vagina, which was not where it was supposed to be.  Then the baby kicked it or something and that caused the blood.  It wouldn’t cause much of a problem as long as there wasn’t anymore bleeding, until delivery.

“Wait a second,” Sarah interrupted the doctor’s explanation.  “You mean that you’ll have to cut me open instead of me pushing the baby out?”

“That would be the safest way to do this to protect both your life and the life of the child,” he stated calmly.  “Placenta praevia is a dangerous condition if not handled properly.  It could be hazardous to you and even more so to the child.”

“So my choices are pushing a watermelon out of my vagina or getting knocked out so someone can slice and dice my stomach?”  She looked terrified.  “That’s it, I’m never having kids again.”

The doctor laughed and Carole smiled fondly, both of them used to reactions like this from patients.  The rest of the group was a bit more wary.

Eventually they were able to leave.  Sarah had a list of suggested changes to make to keep the bleeding down because she needed to check into the hospital when it happened.  Burt was rather frazzled at the thought of losing Sarah or his granddaughter, something he hadn’t even considered.  Carole took her time calming him down and drove him home, promising to answer any questions anyone had to the best of her abilities.

The remaining three went down to the lot where they frantically parked earlier.  Sarah sat in the back and stared out the window.  She had already made it clear that she was staying at the apartment tonight and no one was going to object.  The boys held hands over the center console, fingers intertwined in silent reassurance.  They could have lost their baby girl before they even met her, could still lose her.

That night, after Sarah was in bed, they brought out the baby name books.  At first, they wanted to meet their daughter before they even thought about naming her.  Now that there was a possibility that wouldn’t happen, they wanted to have options.

 

 

Spring went on with only a few minor incidents.  A half-dozen trips to the hospital, four of which turned out to be false alarms.  Sarah got bigger and bigger, joking that she could easily get a second job as the Goodyear blimp.  The first weekend of May, Puck and Kurt were walking up to the garage to grab Sarah for her lunch break when a woman stormed out the door, fumbling with a lighter.

“Stupid teenage whore,” she muttered around the cigarette clenched in her teeth, flicking her bic until it lit long enough for the end to smolder.  By this time, they had reached the door and she leaned back against the wall, pulling in a deep drag.  “You know,” she commented to them, “I’ve been asked to do a lot of things by a lot of people, but I never thought I’d have to take orders from some knocked-up high school floozy.”

He was shaking, anger at this woman who was so callously dismissing his sister coursing through him, but just as Puck opened his mouth, Kurt put a hand on his shoulder.  Puck almost snapped at him, but recognized the look on Kurt’s face.  It may have appeared calm, but there was something about the tightness around his eyes and the set to his chin that was familiar and slightly terrifying.  It was a look that had been turned on nearly every jock in William McKinley High School during their four years.

He was going to verbally slaughter this woman.

“Might I ask,” he began, voice laced with a sweetness like straight Splenda, “what happened?”

The woman took another drag, then blew it out slowly.  “I’m talking with the little self-entitled brat and she tells me that she works there part time after school.  I’m thinking good, she’s actually doing something instead of just sitting around and expecting everything to be handed to her on a silver platter.  But then she starts talking about how she’s her Uncle Burt’s favorite and that’s how she got the job, so obviously it’s straight-up nepotism.”  The hand with the cigarette brushes her short graying hair out of her face.  “And when I try to light up, because it’s a garage, it’s not like it could get any worse, she asks me to take it out here because it’s bad for her baby.  That’s when I see that huge belly hiding behind the desk.  I don’t see why I should have to listen to some slut who can’t even bother to use protection, let alone keep her legs closed, and banks on her family taking care of everything.”  Lips wrapped around the cylinder yet again.  “Oh, and that little nameplate she’s got in there says Puckerman.  I know for a fact that’s the name of the boy that got my friend Russell’s little girl in a bad way a few years back.  Obviously nothing good comes of that family.”

Puck was ready to tear this woman’s head off her shoulders, but Kurt said, “Give me just a moment,” and disappeared into the garage.  There was a few awkward minutes where the woman continued smoking and Puck fought his inner Hulk instincts.  Then Kurt came out, smiling brightly.  “Well, that’s all settled.”

“What?” she asked, taking one last drag and tossing the butt onto the ground.  When she just left it, Kurt’s smile slipped into a frown and he reached his foot forward to stomp it out.

“First of all, you really shouldn’t smoke near a garage anyway.”  Puck recognized his tone as lecture mode.  He’d lost track of the number of talks they’d had about laundry with Kurt using that voice.  “Too many flammables.  Even if she hadn’t been pregnant, Sarah should have asked you to step outside.”

The woman rolled her eyes.  “Whatever.  There should be a sign.”

“There is,” Kurt stated.  “Inside.  Right behind the desk.”  He gave the woman a split second to be embarrassed, then launched into bitch mode.  “However, that doesn’t change the fact that I have never punched a woman before, but you are making it very tempting.”

Her eyes bugged out and her mouth hung open.  “How dare you?  What would your mother say?  Didn’t she ever tell you not to hit girls?”

“Well, I don’t really know,” Kurt admitted.  “She died when I was young, so I don’t remember everything very well.  But from what my dad has told me about her, she would have punched you herself already.”

She spluttered for a moment, but then Kurt’s voice dropped dangerously low.  “Now you’ll listen to me.  Sarah Puckerman is a sweet girl who works hard, gets good grades, loves her family, and looks out for them.  She is her Uncle Burt’s favorite because Burt Hummel doesn’t have any real nieces or nephews.  She is a friend of the family.  She is working to help pay her medical bills, despite the fact that she is giving the baby up for adoption to a couple she knows well who can’t have children on their own.  And if you so much as think about the any of the Puckerman family in a negative context ever again, I will do whatever it takes to make your life a living hell.”  The woman looked shocked, but Kurt wasn’t quite done.  He grabbed her hand and slammed a set of keys into it.  “Now take your fucking keys and get off this property.  Find somewhere else to get your oil changed.”

“Excuse me,” she said, utterly indignant, “what right do you have to turn me away?”

He smiled that dangerous smile.  “Kurt Hummel, at your service.”

Confusion crossed her face, then she caught sight of the Hummel’s Tire and Lube sign above the door and put two and two together.  Instead of backing down like a smart person, she geared up for another round.  “So what, you’re the dad?”

Puck snorted indelicately.  Maybe the thought of the love of his life and his sister having sex should gross him out, but the idea of Kurt just attempting to have sex with a woman was too funny.  Kurt glared at him, but responded with, “Considering I’m half of the couple adopting the child, yes I am the dad.  Or at least I will be a dad.”

Somehow, she managed to pull off something resembling sympathy.  “Oh, you and your wife can’t have kids?”

This time Kurt snorted.  “I don’t know, wife.”  He looked at Puck, amused.  “Can we have kids?”

“Not unless one of us magically grows a vagina overnight,” Puck quipped.  Now she looked like her head was going to explode.  He upped the ante.  “Noah Puckerman, ma’am.  Why don’t you give your buddy Russell Fabray a little update for me?  Quinn’s much better off without him, his granddaughter looks just like her mama and has her daddy’s sense of humor.  Oh, and is his head still up his ass?  He should really get that looked at.”

Back and forth her eyes travelled, one to the other and over to the door back to the boys.  She was at a loss for words.

“I’m going to make this simple for you,” Puck growled.  “You’re going to leave.  You won’t come back.  And if you see my sister on the street or at the mall or in the grocery store, you will go the other way.  She doesn’t deserve your hate just because some asshole wouldn’t take no for an answer.”  Nobody moved.  “Now go.”

The woman turned and strode away.  Her car lights blinked as she unlocked it and wrenched the door open.  The slam was a bit melodramatic.  The rubber-burning peel out definitely was.

Puck smirked over at Kurt.  “You know, watching you tear that woman apart was kinda hot.”

Kurt rolled his eyes and pressed a quick kiss to Puck’s lips.  “Come on, Sarah’s been on break for ten minutes.”

“But you’re the boss’s kid,” Puck complained as they opened the door.

“That doesn’t mean I can just keep the em— SARAH?!”

Sarah was sitting in one of the waiting chairs, clutching her belly.  “Hey guys.  I would have gotten you, but my legs don’t feel like working right now.”  She smiled tightly and looked down at the huge wet patch at the crotch of her sweats.  “Pretty sure my water broke.”

It was a flurry of activity after that.  Kurt stuck his head into the main part of the garage and yelled, “We’re taking Sarah to have our baby!”  A few guys whooped their congratulations and Burt bustled into the room, fussing over Sarah as Puck carefully maneuvered her to the car.  Kurt lay down some towels in the back, covering the whole bench, before getting into the driver’s seat.  The two Puckermans climbed into the back and Kurt took off.  Burt faded in the rearview mirror, on the phone with the hospital so they could clear out an operating room for the C-section.

Despite Kurt driving fifteen over the speed limit, it would take a while for them to make it over to the hospital.  Sarah’s contractions were already coming hard, if spaced out.  With every one, she squeezed Puck’s hand until his fingers turned purple.  He encouraged her to keep breathing.  Her glare told him quite clearly to fuck off.

The car slowed down suddenly, accompanied by Kurt’s violent and inventive cursing from the front seat.  Just as Puck was about to ask what was going on, his phone rang, flashing Burt’s name.  Knowing he wouldn’t call right then unless it was important, Puck answered.

“Tell Kurt to detour, there was a major accident on the shortest way.”

“Yeah,” Puck said, looking out the front window at the remains of five different cars, “we know.  We just ran into it.”

Burt let out a string of words that reminded Puck that no matter how different they seemed, the Hummel men were definitely related.  “That’s not all.  The collision caused some major injuries to several people, so the hospital is already overflowing, especially the surgical units.  It’s going to be at least a five hour wait to get Sarah put under and prepped.”

Puck felt the blood drain from his face as Sarah squeezed his hand again.  “Burt, she’s liable to take my hand off by the time we get to the hospital as is.  You really want me to tell her that?”

“Better you than me,” he chuckled, then sobered.  “Be careful, though.  If you think it’s cutting it too close and either she or that baby is in danger, raise a fuss and get some local anesthetic and a butcher knife if you have to.  Don’t let their incompetence cost you those girls.”

“Not if I can help it,” Puck swore.

“Good.  Now go back to holding her hand and being scared shitless.  Only things I could do when Kurt was on the way.”

“See you later, Grandpa.”  Puck hung up the phone and looked over at Sarah, who was taking deep breaths.  “So that was Burt.  He told us we should detour to avoid the accident.”

“Really now?” Kurt snarked from the front seat.

Puck nodded silently, then waited for the next contraction.  As it faded, he knew she wouldn’t have the energy at the moment to retaliate when he said, “There’s also a five hour minimum wait to get into an operating room.”

“What?” came at him from two different directions: a sharp one from the front and a breathless one from his side.

“All the accident vics are in right now getting patched up,” he explained.  “They know all your info, so you’re high up on the list, but they probably don’t need to get you in until it’s push or go under, so they’ve got the time.”

Kurt finally pulled them free of the traffic slow down, but Sarah looked like she was about to cry.  “But— this hurts.  They’re supposed to knock me out so it doesn’t hurt.”

“No, they’re supposed to knock you out so they can take the baby out safely,” Kurt reminded her.

She pouted.  “I want drugs.”  Another contraction hit and Puck lost the feeling in his hand yet again.

“I know you do, munchkin.  I do too,” he muttered, keeping his voice so Kurt couldn’t hear.  “Once you’re all cleared medically, I’m baking you the world’s biggest batch of my special brownies as a thank you.”  She smiled gratefully and was even happier when they pulled into the hospital parking lot.

Puck learned a lot in the six and a half hours the three of them spent in a private room.  The nurse who kept checking Sarah’s dilation had a very interesting sexual relationship with her mother.  Ruth and Carole were lying female dogs because labor hurt quite a lot.  Kurt needed to go someplace very hot that wasn’t in the tropics.  And judging by Sarah’s favorite nickname for him, Ruth never married their dad.

“Technically, that would make you a bastard, too,” Kurt reminded her.  He ducked as she threw the cup of ice chips at his head.

Antagonizing Sarah mostly distracted her from the pain, but it tended to be hazardous to them.

Kurt had gone for more ice chips a third time when the nurse announced that she was eight centimeters and a room had just opened up.  The surgical team would be coming in a few minutes to take her.  The fact that an anesthesiologist was part of that team made Sarah forget her problems with most doctors and smile through the pain.

“You know, Noah, I love you.”

“Love you too, crazy,” he murmured.  Kurt entered the room, ready to duck again if needed.

“I love you too, Kurt.  Not just cause you make Noah happy, but cause you’re just you.”  The man in question looked confused, until Puck gave him a go-with-it look.  Then he smiled.

“And I love you.  We’ll never be able to thank you enough for this.”

“About that.”  The two men exchanged worried looks.  Could she have changed her mind?  “I’m really happy that you two are getting to raise a kid.  But next time, you’re squeezing it out yourselves.”  She smirked at her brother.  “Noah, that can be your job since I’m pretty sure you’re usually the catcher.”

Puck couldn’t help himself.  He laughed.  Only Sarah would suggest that he be the one to carry the next kid.  “I don’t really have the hips for it.”

“I don’t hear you denying your role in that relationship.”

Puck’s laughs turned to splutters as Kurt smirked next to him.  Even if most thought is was the other way around, she was right, but he wasn’t about to discuss his sex life with his little sister.  He was saved from the potentially awkward conversation by the appearance of the surgical team.

“Can you turn her off?  Please?” Puck joked.

“Not completely off, mind you,” Kurt added.  “Just make the yelling and the throwing things stop.”

One of them hung a bag of something next to the bed and set up the IV.  “Okay, so you’ve talked the process through with your OB-GYN, right?”

“Duh,” Sarah said, “gimme the drugs.”

The doctor, who Puck was hoping was the anesthesiologist, pricked her skin with the needle.  “Give it about twenty seconds.  Count back from one hundred if you need to.”

She titled her head up and looked at Puck and Kurt.  “I’ll see you later, daddies.  Mmkay?”

“Absolutely,” Kurt confirmed.

“See you later.  You’ll need to give me tips for next time.”  Puck winked and she smiled loopily.

“Knew it,” she slurred, then passed out.

They were ushered out of the room, told that it would be at least an hour before they had any news.  The operation waiting room was down the hall, and they headed that way, notifying the nurses desk of their whereabouts for information.  After a few minutes of sitting in uncomfortable chairs and staring at three year old magazines, they got up again, this time to look for something that passed as coffee.  Eventually, they found the cafeteria, complete with premade sandwiches and bottles of Starbucks frappacinos.  It was better than worrying on an empty stomach.  They loaded up and took it back to the waiting room.  A Jerry Springer rerun about a man cheating on his girlfriend with her brother occupied their time, distracting them superficially from what was going on behind the doors.

“Family for Puckerman?”

They both looked up at the doctor standing at the door to the operating wing.  He approached them at their attention and shook their hands.  “The baby is fine.  A little small, but she’s tough.”  Puck deflated, relief coursing through his veins.  Their little girl was okay.  “However, I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but there were complications.”

He went on to explain about placenta praevia, things they’d already heard, but then new information.  Phrases like “nicked artery” and “extensive blood loss” and “we did everything we could.”  He walked away with a final apology, telling them where to find the nursery and when Sarah would be released.

Puck was barely aware of Kurt’s hand in his.  “Did— did he just— no.  He can’t have.  Sarah’s not— she can’t be.”

Kurt stepped in front of Puck and wiped at the tears that had somehow appeared on his cheeks.  “She is.  I’m so sorry, but she is.”  He wrapped his arms around Puck and buried his face in his neck.  “Sarah’s gone.”


	3. A Reason That Fate Sent You to Me

The funeral was nice.  It’s one of those things that always gets said because no one knows what else to say.  It was true though.  Puck wasn’t useful for much in the first week after Marianne was born.  He held it together long enough to put in his two cents about her name.  When he first saw her, all he could think about was that she looked like a little doll, so he tossed out the name of Sarah’s favorite childhood baby doll, not even registering that she wouldn’t be around to enjoy the joke.

The adoption paperwork had been started beforehand, so that prevented the newborn from being placed into the system as an orphan.  According to Gina, the only real change that was made in the process was immediate placement instead of the required three-day waiting period.  She pressed everything through, and within 24 hours, Puck was the legal father of Marianne Renee Puckerman.

He sat in the back of the service, one hand in Kurt’s and the other on Marianne’s carrier.  Rachel and Finn had flown in, sitting towards the front between Burt and Leroy.  Rachel ended up giving a short eulogy, talking about everything from the first time she babysat a five-year-old Sarah to a conversation they had had a mere two weeks ago about whether or not the organic cocoa butter would work as well on stretch marks as the generic stuff.  She talked about their friendship, an unlikely match up given the difference in both age and temperament, but one that worked through the years.

None of the rest of the “family” had the power to speak.  Her friends, her glee club that stuck by her through the pregnancy, the very teenagers that had invaded Puck and Kurt’s apartment a few times to hold mini impromptu baby showers and spa sessions (Kurt liked to spoil the girls) got up at the end to sing.  Puck would have laughed at how nothing had changed since he was in New Directions and they still had to speak through song, but then the pictures appeared on a screen.

Apparently Kurt had been helping his girls again, because it was a slideshow.  Photos of a baby Sarah, often being poked or prodded by a young Puck, were displayed for all to see.  The pictures changed and she grew: macaroni art projects, Halloween costumes, the few vacations they had taken.  One memorable one, of a six-year-old Sarah sunburned bright red, and Puck standing next to her, white stripe down the middle of his forehead.  Sarah had dropped gum on his hair and the first mohawk had disappeared to remove it.

The pictures kept switching, flashes of memory assaulting Puck, when the words of the song finally registered.

“Yeah, when I get where I’m going, don’t cry for me down here…”

Puck picked up the carrier and walked out of the room.  If anyone asked, Marianne needed a diaper change.

 

 

At the end of the first week, Puck finally broke.  He was cleaning out the dresser full of maternity clothes, intending to donate them to the homeless shelter where they served Christmas dinner years ago, when he came across a soft white shirt, obviously purchased for Marianne.  It wasn’t something she’d be wearing anytime soon, the label claiming it was for a four month old, but the message was too perfect.

_Daddies’ little girl._

He picked it up to set it on top of the dresser, but a crinkling noise stopped him.  Pinned to the back was a folded up sheet of notebook paper, addressed to “Baby.”  Puck undid the safety pin and put the shirt aside, unfolding the note.

_Dear Baby,_

__

_I would use your name if Noah and Kurt would actually give you one.  I can hear them right now, talking about it in the living room.  Kurt likes the name Ellen but Noah thinks it’s too old.  Really though, anything is better than the names your Uncle Finn came up with once upon a time.  He wanted to name your older sister Drizzle._

__

_Now I kinda like that as a nickname._

__

_So Drizzle, just FYI, this is your mother speaking.  Well, I’m also your Aunt Sarah, but given that we just got back from the hospital after possibly one of the scariest nights of my life, I’m going to go with mother.  Not mama, mother.  That’s kinda what I want to talk to you about._

__

_Dr. J told me that some shit happened and there’s some danger to you and/or me.  Like, death kind of danger.  More of it to you than me, but it’s still there for both of us.  That means there’s a chance that you might make it out of this and I won’t.  If that’s what goes down, I just want you to know a few things._

__

_One, you are the cool Puckerman now.  It was always me, so that job is yours.  Unless Kurt dropped the Hummel when they finally got married and is just Puckerman.  In that case, you’re the second-coolest Puckerman.  You will always rank above Noah, but don’t tell him that._

__

_Two, your daddies know what they’re doing.  Usually.  So you should listen to them.  Usually.  But don’t be afraid to make your own mistakes._

__

_Three, if Noah ever gives you crap having sex before you’re forty, ignore him.  Kurt will be much more realistic about it._

__

_Four, you need to sing.  A lot.  Even if you don’t think you can.  It just makes things easier._

__

_Five, I have always loved you and I always will.  I told Noah that I had to know who you were.  It sucks that you reading this means I probably didn’t.  But I was not ready to be your mama.  I am seventeen, still in school, and I made a mistake.  But you are not a mistake.  You are something wonderful.  I just wish I could have had you when I was ready._

__

_Six, you may not have a mama, but you have two daddies who love you very much.  And if anyone tells you that’s wrong, just give them a good punch to the mouth.  Ask Noah how to do it.  Or if you’d rather kick, ask Kurt.  He’s scary good._

__

_I’m exhausted now and those two are arguing over if Gwen or Gwyn is better.  Drizzle, I really hope they get their shit sorted out by the time they actually need to fill out the birth certificate.  If not, I’m taking over.  I’ll threaten them with naming you after Aunt Rachel, but giving you my middle name.  They’d never go for it though, so I hope your name is as badass as you are._

__

_Here’s hoping you never have to read this._

__

_Love,_

_Sarah Renee Puckerman ♥_

Puck dropped the letter.  His knees gave out and the tears came thick and fast.  He had focused on Marianne since Sarah died, not letting himself grieve for even a moment.  As long as he had his new little girl, he didn’t have to think about the one he’d lost.  Trading one munchkin for another.

As he’d just realized, it didn’t work like that.

He sobbed for hours, and when Kurt came home from work, Marianne’s carrier on one arm and a bag of groceries on the other, Puck was asleep on the floor of the spare bedroom.  A trash bag full of clothes sat half full and the second drawer was still open.  Tear tracks had dried on his face.

 

 

They had gotten a nine month lease, which meant moving out in the insane July heat.  Burt, Carole, and Ruth all wanted them to stay a little longer, but it had always been the plan to leave eventually.  The only difference was that the original plan had Sarah living in the second bedroom of their new place, with the crib in theirs.  Now, they could go back to their studio and keep the cheap rent.  It still suited their needs, but they’d be keeping an eye out for larger places.  Marianne would need her own room in a few years.

The drive back was difficult.  Apparently Marianne hated being cooped up in a car as much as Sarah had, because she screamed bloody murder for most of the drive.  They had made the drive in a single day before, but with the number of stops they had to make just to get her out into fresh air, they ended up checking into a hotel somewhere in Pennsylvania.  Once inside and settled into the small crib the front desk had rolled over to their room, she gazed around the room quietly, taking in the new location.

“One way or another,” Puck muttered as he carefully loaded a still-sleeping Marianne into the car the next morning, “I’m pretty sure this kid will drive me insane.”

“Haven’t you heard?  Insani—”  His statement was cut off by his own loud yawn.  “Insanity is hereditary.  You get it from your children.”

“Then where did Rachel get it from in high school?”

Kurt was quiet for a minute, looking at the window and smiling fondly.  “I have no clue.  Even now, I wonder about her sometimes, especially around Marianne.  It’s like she’s waiting to sink her teeth into this little one.”

“I know it.  I feel like we should give her something to make her back off a little for a while.”

“Like what, a night babysitting?  We’d never get her back.  Rachel would steal her and jump the border to Canada, leaving Finn behind to figure out how to feed himself with a bowl of spinach and a block of tofu.”

“I was thinking more like godmother, and make Finn godfather.  You know he’d love making those jokes.”  Puck side-eyed his boyfriend as he switched lanes on the highway.  “I think you’re sleep-deprived.  Why don’t you take a nap for the next hundred miles?”

“Mmkay.”  Those were apparently the magic words, because Kurt’s eyes slid shut almost immediately.  “We should go to Canada.  Just for fun.  We can go on a Sunday.”

“Sure, Kurt,” Puck chuckled.  “Let’s go to Canada on a Sunday.”

 

 

Rachel was overjoyed at being named godmother, and Finn attempted his best Italian accent in asking for a cannoli.  Marianne settled into her section of the apartment well, and both men could easily hear when she was upset wherever they happened to be.  They would have been upset about the lack of sex they were having, but with Kurt out auditioning all day and Puck taking care of Marianne between writing down notes and lyrics, it was too much effort to even try.

It hit Puck all of sudden one night.  He was warming a bottle of formula on the stovetop and talking to Marianne about what he should cook for dinner when Kurt walked in.  He hung his bag on the small coat rack they had wedged beside the door and walked over to the two in the kitchenette, planting a small kiss each on the baby’s head and Puck’s cheek.  It was something that had happened every day for the past week, a simple domestic gesture.  But one moment he was thinking about not scorching the pan, the next he felt like he was in some fifties, Leave It To Beaver world where the husband comes home to see his wife cooking and caring for the kids.  The only real difference was that they were two men and Puck wasn’t sure he could pull off the classy gloves and pearls those dames did.

“What are you doing tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?”  Kurt picked through his bag and found a day planner.  He flipped it open to the right page, scanned it quickly, then said, “Nothing as far as I know.  Why?”

“Thought you might want to go to Canada.”

Kurt rolled his eyes.  “You don’t have to make that joke every week.  I realize I babble when I get tired.  You’d think you’d stop holding my stupid comments over my head eventually.”

“Not my fault you have a problem with the way you think.”

“That was one time!  And it was years ago!”

“Doesn’t make it any less funny.”  He turned off the burner and moved the pot off to the side, not wanting to risk it when he wasn’t giving it his full attention.  “So, you want to do something tomorrow?  You, me, our girl, maybe Finn and Rachel?”

“That depends,” Kurt answered, slipping the calendar back into his bag.  “What would we be doing?”

“Getting married.”

Kurt turned slowly, eyebrow raised.  “Is this seriously your proposal?”

“Yeah.”  Puck shrugged, then shifted Marianne to his other shoulder.  “I mean, there’s a pair of rings in my underwear drawer, but,” he grabbed the bottle and tested it on his wrist, “I kinda have my hands full right now.”

“You do know there’s a wait period, right?” Kurt asked, walking over to the dresser and pulling out Puck’s drawer.  “Even if the office is open tomorrow, we wouldn’t be able to have the ceremony.”

“So we go when it opens again and just get it done.”

“You say the most romantic things,” Kurt drawled.

“Come on.”  Puck adjusted the bottle so Marianne wasn’t sucking down air.  “You and I both know that the only thing that makes us not married is that little piece of paper.  We’ve lived together for years, we have a kid together, we have the same cell phone plan, the same sock drawer.  Hell, we even have joint checking.  The only thing that will really change is some last names and our tax return.”

“So you just want to go down to the courthouse, get married with Finn and Rachel as our witnesses, and then what?”  He turned around, ring box in hand.  “How are you going to break that to my dad?”

“Think he can get time off of work?”

“He owns the place.”

“Then it’s no problem.”  Kurt just stared.  “Look, I’m tired of not being married to you.  Maybe once upon a time I’d be worried that I’d freak out once I had a ring on my finger, but that ring is just going to be one more thing that proves I’m yours and you’re mine.  It’s been that way for a while and it’s not changing anytime soon.  So I don’t see the need for a fuss.  If you want to fly Burt and Carole up here for a little something at the courthouse, then we can do that.  Ma told me a few months ago that she thought we’d already been married for a couple of years and just let people figure it out for themselves, so me calling her to say we put our names on a piece of paper is going to get a congratulations and a bunch of questions about what Marianne did during the day.”

Puck set the bottle down and threw a spit cloth over his shoulder.  Propping the baby up and patting her back, he approached Kurt.  “I just want to be married to you.  I don’t really care about the how or what we’re wearing or anything like that, I just want it to happen as soon as possible.”

Kurt’s eyes were watering, and he smiled slightly.  “Okay, I’ll accept that proposal.”

Both men broke into wide grins.  Kurt pulled the rings out of the box and slid one onto his finger.  It was loose, so he took it off and tried the other one.  With one secured, Puck stuck out his ring finger from where his left was supporting Marianne’s bottom.  As Kurt got it all the way on, she let out a large burp, along with a little spittle.

“That’s the other thing you get with marrying me,” Puck said.  “Makes it a hell of a lot easier to adopt this one here.”

Dabbing at his eyes with a sleeve, Kurt ran a hand down her back.  “That’s another thing that it would just be putting names onto paper.  She’s already ours.”

“She really is.”  Puck carried her over to the crib and set her down.  “Sometimes I look at her and wonder what we did to get so lucky, you know?  It’s not like I was a saint or anything for most of my life.”

“Hey, stop that.”  Kurt swatted at Puck’s chest with the back of his hand.

“Don’t hit me, you never know when she might start picking up our habits.”

“She’s three months old, I don’t think me reminding you that you’re an idiot is going to significantly impact her development.”  Puck pouted, but Kurt kissed it away.  “You are a good man, Noah Puckerman.  You might have messed up along the way, but overall, you did good.  It’s not like I was always the best person either.”

“Yeah but—”

“No.  No buts.”

“What about this one?” Puck asked, reaching down to grope Kurt.

“Fine, that one, but no buts with one T.  You know me.  When have I ever accepted anything less than the best?”

“Never.”

“And whose ring is on my finger right now?”

“Mine.”

“Well, there you go.”  Puck smiled uncertainly and Kurt wrapped an arm around his waist, watching their little girl.  “I don’t believe in God, but I do think that things work out in the end.  Call it a musical mentality, but I think the good are rewarded and the not-so-good get theirs.  And things work out the way they do because that’s the way they’re supposed to.”

“Everything will be okay in the end.  If it’s not okay, then it’s not the end.”  Kurt nodded and squeezed.  Puck faced his now-fiance.  “So, you ready to hyphenate?”

Kurt couldn’t help himself.  “I’m really looking forward to being the cool Puckerman.”

“Nah, that’s always going to be Sarah.”

 

 

It took longer than they would have liked for the three of them to become a “true family.”  Burt was able to close the garage whenever he really wanted, or could leave it in the hands of his more trusted employees, but Carole was having a hard time getting enough time off from the hospital.  She told them she had put in the request to get vacation scheduled as soon as possible, but it could easily be two weeks before it was put into rotation.

Seeing as they were having to wait anyway, Puck called his mother and asked if she wanted to come to his wedding.  She was wary, not wanting to make the drive herself and being scared of flying, but when he mentioned the possibility of carpooling with Kurt’s parents, she put in her notice for vacation time as well.  Luckily, the timing all worked out in the end.

The justice of the peace that married them was a tiny old lady with long white hair.  As they approached the front, Puck couldn’t help but comment that she looked like an elfin queen, which caused Kurt to giggle as they said their vows.

The adoption petitions got more complicated.  Kurt was adopting under the step-parent rule, but there were some kinks that had to be ironed out since Marianne was born and adopted for the first time in Ohio.  The clerks kept asking about the birth mother and the biological father and all these other questions until finally Kurt just handed them Gina’s number, saying that she handled the first case, so she had the details.

Two days later, he received a giddy call from Gina.  The clerk had questioned her work in their case, giving her the chance to ream him out for insensitivity and unprofessionalism.  It was the most fun she’d had at her job in a while.

A week after the debacle in the office, they were summoned to sign the final papers, thereby making Marianne legally their child.  With a flourish of a pen, Kurt commented that he expected to feel different, but nothing had really changed.

It wasn’t until they were trying to put Marianne to bed that night that the truth of that statement sunk in.  Puck was still the one fixing the bottle and Kurt was still the one bathing her in the sink, just like every other night.  As happened more often than not, she refused to be put down, crying every time they set her in the crib.

“It’s like she thinks were putting her in jail or something,” Kurt complained as he picked her up for the third time.  Puck was resting on the bed, jeans slung low on his hips as he cradled the guitar to his bar chest.  He plucked a few notes, then played a longer string.  Nodding, he scribbled it in the staff book laying next to him before looking at the crib.

“I don’t know.  Those bars do remind me a little of juvie.”

“Oh, the bars in juvie were made of formica and painted bright pink?”

Puck grinned.  “Just saying, she’s already on the same brain wave as her old man.”

“Well, old man, if you and her have the same thoughts, then what is going to get her to sleep?  I have an audition at nine tomorrow morning across town.”

He stared at her, then put his fingers to his temple in a mimicry of mind reading.  When Kurt rolled his eyes, muttering “Any day now,” Puck started playing and singing softly.

“Come stop your crying, it’ll be alright…”

As Marianne calmed, Kurt began moving carefully back towards the crib.  By the time Puck hit the final notes of the song, she was sound asleep under her blanket.  Kurt backed away slowly, then collapsed on the bed.

“How did you do that?”

“It’s what I sang to Sarah when she was a baby and couldn’t sleep.”  Kurt looked over at his husband and smiled, then kissed him softly.  He crawled under the covers as Puck stood to put away the guitar and notes.

“You know,” Kurt began, “every time I think I’ve got things under control, there’s something new.  I’m still trying to figure out how Dad managed with me by himself for so long.”

“I’m starting to think Ma was Wonder Woman in disguise or something.  Newborn Sarah and bratty eight-year-old me, right after Dad left?”  Puck stripped off his pants and turned off the light, feeling his way carefully to the bed.  “I don’t have a damn clue how she did it.”

“I seem to remember a lot of Disney movies and boxes of Goldfish.”

“Cable TV and Pop-Tarts.”

“Only eating one brand of black cherry yogurt, and only after someone had eaten out the black cherries.”

“Going to bed sometimes without a bath because Ma just didn’t feel like fighting me.”

“Playing in my room until 2am because I got up after Dad went to sleep.”

“Crawling into the fireplace full of ashes as soon as I was left alone.” 

“Playing with the box that the toy came in.” 

“I think every kid does that.” 

“Especially when the box is big enough to be a house.” 

“I once ate an entire tube of toothpaste in the middle of the night because I was hungry.”

They peered at each other through the dark and laughed.

“All that stuff some parents preach about organic foods and approved discipline techniques and properly stimulating the brain at all times?” Kurt asked.

“Total bullshit,” Puck concluded.  “I think we turned out pretty good.”

“There’s this one story my dad tells.” Kurt curled into Puck’s side, resting a hand over his heart.  “I was about four, playing in the backyard, and it gets quiet back there for a while.  He goes out there, and I’m eating in the vegetable garden.”

“What’d you do, dig up some carrots?”

“Not even close.  That particular summer, he had let it get overgrown with wildflowers.  Then Mom decided she was going to keep them as a garden of her own.”  He let out a soft chuckle.  “My reasoning was that they smelled good, so they should taste good as well.  Luckily there was nothing poisonous, but I decimated a pretty big section of the garden.  Just the flowers, though.  All the leaves and stems were still there.”

“How did Burt explain that one to your mom?”

“He didn’t.  As far as she knew, a bunch of birds picked over her ‘natural garden’ that she loved so much.”

Puck had a mental image of a younger (hairier) Burt explaining to the woman in the picture on Kurt’s nightstand about a flock of wild birds attacking her garden.  There was arm flapping involved.  He started laughing, being sure to keep it low so it didn’t disturb Marianne.

“I loved Barney when I was little,” he admitted.  “Like, obsession levels.  And you couldn’t pull me away from an episode without me throwing a complete hissy fit.  Unfortunately, it came on at eight on Saturday mornings, literally a split second after the morning news wrapped up.  Now Dad refused to give up his morning news, but he never mastered the art of turning off the TV before Barney came on.”

“So?  What’s wrong with watching Barney?”

“Nothing.  But synagogue services started at 8:30 and it took twenty minutes to get there.”

“Oh, no.”  Kurt could obviously tell where this was going.

“For about three years, we were twenty minutes late to synagogue every week.”

“Your poor mother.”  But Kurt was laughing too.  “Why didn’t they just turn it off at the commercial break?”

“Dude.”  Puck was scandalized.  “Do you not know your Barney?  The I Love You song comes at the end of every episode.  It was not over until I had heard that song.  Otherwise there were tears and screaming.”

“Once she gets old enough to fight back, we are going to be horrible parents,” Kurt joked.

“Yep,” he agreed cheerily.  “But as long as we’re screwing her up together, I’m okay with it.

“Me too.”

  


**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to the following:
> 
> The mods of [Puckurt Big Bang](http://puckurtbigbang.livejournal.com/), for putting the challenge out there.
> 
> [ersatz_sailor](http://ersatz-sailor.livejournal.com/), for dealing with my absent-mindedness and providing fabulous art.
> 
> [flyingsoftly](http://flyingsoftly.livejournal.com/), for the eleventh hour beta magic.
> 
> My friend Otto, for writing that song that got into my head and refused to leave.
> 
> And my little sis, for forcing me to sit down and write already.


End file.
